


Morning After Isn't Always Awkward (But This Wasn't One Of Those Times)

by heartinhand221 (Illusinia)



Series: Shake It All Off [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3076412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/heartinhand221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye has breakfast the morning after with Grant, his sister Jemma, and the bartender Trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning After Isn't Always Awkward (But This Wasn't One Of Those Times)

**Author's Note:**

> You guys asked for a sequel, so here you go.
> 
> The failed turkey frying with Victoria Hand idea totally goes to Overdressed To Kill and her wonderful Roommates AU.

Awkward wasn't an adequate way to describe the situation as Skye and Grant stepped into the kitchen about ten minutes after his sister had burst into the room and caught them. At least not for Skye. Awkward didn't do the situation justice.

 

“Finally!” exclaimed Jemma, half popping up from where she'd been sitting beside the bartender from the night before, Trip. “It certainly took you long enough.”

 

Trip glanced up at them as they entered, tearing his eyes away from Jemma to nod at them both with a knowing grin. Skye offered him a wave back as best she could, the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt covering her whole hand except for her fingers. Her other hand went to pull up the black shorts she'd also stolen from Grant, which kept slipping down on her hips. The look Grant had given her as she was pulling on his clothes said he didn't mind the look one bit; she's pretty sure it was only the threat of his sister bursting in on them again that actually got them out of the room.

 

Beside her, Grant huffed out a groan and headed across the room to the kitchen with a grumble. He only paused to hug Jemma, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before he cut around the island in the center of the room and began pulling various things from the cabinets and fridge. “What kind of pancakes do you guys want?”

 

“Blueberry!” demanded Jemma, perking up immediately.

 

“Blueberry,” agreed Trip, nodding along. Skye wondered for half a second if that was because Jemma, who he clearly had some kind of crush on, was insisting on it.

 

Grant just rolled his eyes before pulling two mugs from the cabinet and filling them with coffee. A grin was tugging at his lips though, belying his amusement with his sister's demands. “I shouldn't even bother to ask. You always say the same thing.” Cutting around the counter again with one of the mugs in his hands, he offered the mug to Skye with a significantly softer smile. “What about you?”

 

Skye blinked in surprise, staring at Grant in confusion. Her hands automatically wrapped themselves around the offered mug as her half-asleep brain tried to understand what he was asking. It failed. “Huh?”

 

“Pancakes,” explained Grant with a shrug, heading back around the counter calmly. “What kind do you want?”

 

 _Wait, he's offering to make me a different kind?_ She'd just assumed she'd eat whatever his sister demanded he make. It hadn't crossed her mind to make some other request. Hell, ten minutes ago, she hadn't actually believed she would be standing here, preparing to have breakfast with her one-night stand's family. “Um....”

 

“Make her chocolate chip,” chimed in Trip before she could sputter something out, coming to her rescue with a grin. “She likes chocolate based on her go-to drink.”

 

Grant's eyebrow shot up in surprise, his eyes flicking between Skye and Trip. His mouth opened to say something, but Jemma broke in first. “Antoine! Don't encourage such bad habits!”

 

“She's not you, Jem,” countered Trip, turning to Jemma with a soft look. “She wasn't raised like you guys and doesn't have to eat healthy if she doesn't want to. Don't get on her case. Pretty sure this is already awkward for her.”

 

“How is that?” asked Jemma curiously. “It's only polite to offer breakfast.”

 

“Maybe because you burst into my room without knocking?” suggested Grant with a look, glancing at Skye and wiggling a bag of chocolate chips in the air. It took her a second to realize he was asking her if she did, indeed, want chocolate chip pancakes. Her nod must have been pretty rapid, because the smile he sent her was part amused and part reassuring.

 

From the table, Jemma scoffed. “It's hardly something I haven't seen before, Grant. There is nothing shameful about the hu-”

 

“Human body,” chorused Grant and Trip, breaking into Jemma's sentence simultaneously. “We know.”

 

Shaking his head, Grant dropped the bag of chocolate chips beside the mixing bowl. “So, I've got blueberry for my sister and bartender and chocolate chip for my guest. Anyone I missed?”

 

“Yourself?” suggested Jemma with a look. “And do not even consider a glass of raw eggs. I know John used to do it, but it isn't sanitary.”

 

“John?” asked Skye curiously, attention flicking to Grant. Normally, she wouldn't care, but this morning was already weird, so she couldn't see the harm in asking.

 

“Our foster father,” explained Jemma, turning her attention on Skye, which was apparently when she realized Skye was still standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Come! Sit!”

 

“We don't bite,” added Trip with a wink as he pointed to the bench across the table from where he and Jemma were seated. “At least, not more than Grant does.”

 

“And you know this because?” asked Skye with a raised eyebrow. She headed for the bench all the same though because, hey, why not? She'd agreed to stay and there were free pancakes to boot. “I mean, I'm totally cool with it if you're speaking from personal experi-”

 

“He's being an asshole, Skye,” stated Grant from across the room. There was a cracking sound like egg shells followed by swishing. “Just ignore him. He doesn't know anything.”

 

Trip snorted. “I know she has a hickey on her neck that's gonna get that boyfriend-”

 

“Ex,” interrupted Skye, suddenly taking a drink of her coffee. “Miles is an inconsiderate asshole who'll fuck anything that moves until he has complete control over it and gets bored.”

 

“Somehow, I suspect you're stronger than that if you caught my foster-brother's attention,” remarked Jemma knowingly,

 

Skye felt her cheeks heat up. “Um, yeah, I kinda didn't give Grant a choice. Just sorta dragged him out on the dance floor.”

 

“Oh, there was no dragging,” stated Trip, smirking over his coffee cup. “He might have seemed reluctant but Grant's been crush-” Batter suddenly splattered against the bartender's face, causing the man to sputter to a halt.

 

“I thought we all agreed to the 'no embarrassing people at the table' rule,” remarked Grant as Skye glanced back at the man. His spoon was still raised, batter dripping from the tip, and she had to admit it was an impressive shot. Across the room with just a spoon. That took skill.

 

“Grant!” exclaimed Jemma as the small woman half jumped on Trip and began wiping up the batter. Skye just stared back and forth between them. This whole thing made no sense. What was he so upset about? What crush?

 

“The one he has on you.”

 

Two things registered for Skye in that exact moment: one, she'd been saying what was supposed to stay in her head out loud (again) and, two, there was a new person in the doorway. A person she knew, and not just from the club. It was also the last person she'd expected to run into here, of all places.

 

“Melinda?” Okay, Skye was probably staring, but seriously, her adoptive dad's girlfriend was currently in the doorway of the kitchen of the guy she just slept with. And said girlfriend was in the same clothes she'd been in last night when Skye saw her leave with Phil.

 

“Hey Mel,” greeted Trip, a teasing tone sliding into his voice. “Long night?”

 

“No longer than Skye's,” replied Melinda, smirking a bit. “Let me guess: Miles pissed you off and you grabbed the first hot, available guy you could find.” The second sentence was directed at Skye; it almost scared her how easily the woman figured out what had happened.

 

“How do you know I didn't seduce her?” challenged Grant as he began pouring batter onto a large skillet, though Skye could hear the pout in his voice.

 

“Because you've been staring at her for a month,” explained Melinda with a shake of her head as she entered the kitchen. “And Miles is an asshole.”

 

“No argument there,” muttered Skye, shaking her head a bit as she turned to face Grant and Melinda.

 

“So how do you know one another?” questioned Jemma, leaning forward curiously. Skye was becoming more and more convinced the scientist was actually some kind of Disney animal come to life. Or just really, really good at playing innocent.

 

“I know her father,” replied Melinda simply, brow furrowing as she suddenly turned back to Skye halfway to the island. “Does he know you're here?”

 

“No...” replied Skye slowly, seconds before she began rapidly digging for her phone in her borrowed clothes. “Shit. He's gonna flip.”

 

Melinda almost looked like she might laugh (her lips kicked up a tiny bit in the corners) as she pulled out her own phone. “I'll call him, Skye. Your phone is probably on the floor of Grant's room.”

 

“Probably,” agreed Skye after a second. She's in Grant's clothes after all, her own still strewn across his floor. Her cell was probably amid the mess.

 

“Hey Mel, what kind of pancakes do you want?” asked Grant as he poked at the first round on the skillet. “We have blueberry and chocolate chip so far.”

 

“I already ate,” dismissed Melinda as she pressed the phone to her ear. It barely rang once before a frantic Phil picked up. Skye could hear him from where she was sitting.

 

“Mel, I can't talk,” stated Phil loudly. “I need to find Sk-”

 

“She's here, Phil,” broke in Melinda, her voice calm as she strode back over to Skye. Pressing a button, Melinda dropped the phone on the table and gave Skye a pointed look.

 

Right; she should probably say something. “Hey Phil.”

 

“Skye!” exclaimed Phil, relief filling his voice. “Where are you?”

 

“Apparently Mel's place,” replied Skye, shooting Melinda an uncertain look. The older woman pointed to Grant instead and headed for a kettle on the stove.”Or, I think she lives here? Everyone’s acting like she does.”

 

“Everyone?” repeated Phil, his voice taking on the dangerous quality Skye knew meant he wanted to kill someone. “How many people are there and why are you among them?”

 

“Um, because Miles is an asshole and there was a really cute guy at the bar?” tried Skye. Trip made a sound like he might be choking on his laughter and Grant actually looked a little horrified. Well, okay, a lot of horrified if the way the pancakes were starting to smoke, unattended, said anything. Melinda's quick swipe of the spatula from him was the only thing that saved the flapjacks from a smokey demise.

 

Across the line, Phil let out an unhappy noise. “If that was all, I would expect you home by now.”

 

“Well, his sister kind of invited me to have pancakes with them,” admitted Skye uneasily.

 

“Skye is fine, Phil,” called out Melinda from the stove, passing the spatula back to Grant now that he didn't look like he was going to burn them anymore. She snatched up the kettle just before it started to whistle, pouring water into a mug before crossing back to the table and taking a seat beside Skye. “I've told you about Grant.”

 

“Your boss,” stated Phil in a deadpan tone. “Skye slept with your boss.”

 

“Well, you don't have to say it like that,” muttered Skye. The look Melinda shot her said she wasn't being helpful. “Hey, he refused to fuck me against the bathroom wall. I count that as a win.”

 

A groan and thump from across the room drew Skye's attention to a very red-faced Grant. She ignored her father's choking in favor of furrowing her brow worriedly at the man she'd woken up to. Okay, yeah, she could have been more subtle, but her father was acing like Grant was horrible for sleeping with her. Besides, it wasn't like Phil didn't already know they had slept together. It was kind of obvious.

 

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,” stated Phil simply. “Just call me when you're headed home, Skye.”

 

“You've got it, Phil,” agreed Skye, rolling her eyes a bit. “Why don't you track Leo like this? He disappears with Mack all night all the time.”  
  


“Because your brother is a- with Mack who I know and trust, and b- doesn't refuse to carry a taser,” replied Phil calmly. “Now go have breakfast. Call when you're on your way home.”

 

“What, planning to be busy?” joked Skye. Now that Phil had calmed down, she felt safe reverting to teasing him. Her dad was so old fashioned in some ways, it was almost scary.

 

“No,” stated Phil, “though your brother might be.”

 

Skye wrinkled her nose at that thought. She knew Phil wouldn't be busy- Melinda was with her. But Leo and Mack were another story. She was still kind of scarred from walking in on them on the hood of Mack's car. “Tell them to keep it in the bedroom. I don't need to see that again.”

 

“Says the girl who wanted me to take her against the bathroom wall,” muttered Grant, his voice suddenly very close. Skye nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke- his mouth was directly beside her ear. She shot him a weak glare in response, but all he did was smirk in that satisfactory way that made her want to both slap and jump him.

 

She offered him a smirk instead, grabbing the front of his shirt to stop him from straightening. Leaning close, she brushed her lips softly against his and dropped her voice to a whisper. “There's always tonight.”

 

The earlier teasing smile vanished from Grant's face immediately. “Skye, I'm not going to take you against a wall in the mens room of the club.”

 

“No, you aren't,” agreed Phil, cutting into the conversation and reminding them both he could hear them. “That's uns-”

 

Whatever else Phil was bout to say was cut off abruptly when Melinda removed her phone from speaker and returned it to her ear. “She's fine. Phil. They're eating breakfast now that Grant avoided burning the food too much.”

 

“I didn't burn anything,” muttered Grant as he set the two pates he was carrying in front of Jemma and Trip. He then crossed the room to snag two more and set one in front of Skye before settling down beside her with the other. Melinda just gave them another faint smirk before walking out of the room with her phone still pressed to her ear.

 

Skye didn't add anything to that conversation, opting instead to turn her attention towards her pancakes. The scent of chocolate wafted from the plate, making Skye's mouth water. A body like that and he could cook? What was he, the perfect guy?

 

“Say that again after you've watched him fill the kitchen with smoke trying to make pot roast,” challenged Jemma, shaking her head slightly as she bit into her food.

 

“I just said that aloud, didn't I,” sighed Skye with a wince, glancing at Grant. Sure enough, his cheeks were bright red. Great way to make an impression.

 

“Oh, don't forget the cookies,” added Trip, his fork flying around a bit for emphasis. “There was fire that time.”  
  


“Was not,” growled Grant, scowling slightly down at his breakfast. Skye felt bad for the man- he was clearly not enjoying the teasing. The need to deflect some of the jokes away from him was too strong for Skye to ignore.

 

“Well, nothing tops the year my dad's friend talked him into attempting a deep fried turkey on Thanksgiving,” broke in Skye, attempting to distract the group from Grant. “My Boston-born, traditionalist dad. That was a fiasco that involved the fire department.”

 

“They tried to deep fry a turkey,” repeated Trip horror leaking into his voice. Skye was guessing he'd assumed only people on Youtube tried it. She'd thought the same thing until Phil gave it a shot. “You mean just a leg, right?”

 

“Nope, the whole bird,” corrected Skye with a shake of her head. “Leo was egging them on, too, which totally didn't help. He said something about the taste reminding him of Scotland.”

 

“I think- didn't John try that once, Grant?” asked Jemma, her brow furrowing slightly.

 

“Once,” confirmed Grant around a bit of food. “He was trying to prove a point to Vikki, remember?” Glancing at Skye and Trip, he added: “Vikki was our neighbor.”

 

“That's right, he invited Victoria over and they attempted to dip it in oil,” stated Jemma slowly, like the memory was gradually coming back to her. “Was Jasper there? I can't recall.”

 

“John and Jasper weren't together yet,” confirmed Grant with a shake of his head. “Jasper wouldn't let John do that without some sarcastic remark.”

 

“You're right, I don't recall him being there,” agreed Jemma after a second. “Just Victoria. God, I'd forgotten about that.”

 

“That's because you were studying for your college finals and were so distracted that you barely remembered it was Thanksgiving,” explained Grant, cutting off another bite of his food.

 

“Oh, was that my last year of studies?” asked Jemma curiously. “I mostly just remember the backyard caught on fire one year.”

 

“That was the year with the turkey.” confirmed Grant. “The thing exploded.”

 

“Exploded?” repeated Skye, one eyebrow going up in disbelief. “Wow, okay, that tops our attempt. The oil just boiled over and caught fire when they put the bird in. Well, it caught most of the yard on fire too, but there was no actual explosion.”

 

“Yeah, it apparently hadn't thawed enough,” admitted Grant with a wince.

 

“So, was it Chinese food that year for you guys, too?” asked Skye in amusement. The image of Grant running around and attempting to put out burning turkey chunks was all too funny.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Grant with his own grin. “Vikki made John pay.”

 

“Well, she had every right to,” pointed out Jemma calmly. “That was a truly terrible idea.”

 

“At least Phil and Nick had the idea while drunk,” added Skye. “They were sober when it happened, but I blame Leo for reminding them about it.”

 

“Sadly, I suspect John was sober when he came up with the plan,” stated Jemma with clear resignation. “I vaguely recall a video somewhere though.”

 

“I have it,” stated Grant with a smirk. “It's good if you have a bad day.”

 

“That was smart,” sighed Skye. “We didn't think to record it, so all we have is a melted fryer.”

 

“Still evidence,” pointed out Trip, collecting the empty plates from in front of himself and Jemma. “Jem, you ready to go?”

 

“Now that I've had my pancakes, I am,” confirmed Jemma, sliding from her seat.

 

“Wait, I cooked! Who's going to clean up?” asked Grant, staring up at his sister in shock.

 

“You cooked because you promised pancakes in exchange for me straightening your books,” reminded Jemma as she passed her brother, pausing to hug him. “Have a good day, Grant.”

 

With that, Jemma skipped to Trip and half pulled him out of the room. The bartender looked less upset than should be expected. Then again, he was being tugged around by a beautiful woman. Who was gonna argue that?

 

“I can't believe they left me with clean up,” muttered Grant, shaking his head and stabbing a bite of food.

 

“I'll help,” offered Skye, reaching across the table for the syrup. “You did cook.”

 

“No,” stated Grant, shaking his head with a resigned sigh. “I can't ask you to clean up. You're a guest.”

 

“So?” asked Skye, taking a bite of her food. “You got stuck with dish duty and clean up. It's the least I can do.”

 

Nodding slowly, Grant glanced the door to the room before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her throat. His lips grazed across her jaw and cheek as they traveled upwards until his breath brushed against the shell of her ear. “I'll make it up to you. We can continue what we started earlier.”

 

Skye felt a shiver travel down her spine. Oh, she was gonna take him up on that. “Promise?”

 

His teeth caught the edge of her ear softly. “Promise.”

 

Beneath the table, Grant's free hand landed on her leg, resting calmly against the skin revealed by his shorts. It remained there for a moment, his fingers shifting slightly but otherwise not moving as he leaned back to take a bite of his own food. At first she thought he'd leave it resting there just to tease her. Then, when she went to take a bite of her own food again, his hand began to slide upward while he innocently sat there, pretending he wasn't feeling her up beneath the table. Skye nearly groaned and dropped her fork- the bastard.

 

“Does it taste okay?” asked Grant, gesturing to her plate with his own fork.

 

“Yeah, it's good,” confirmed Skye as she tried to focus on her food and not the hand creeping towards the junction of her thighs. His hand stopped at the very top of her leg, the last two digits shifting to brush against the skin directly beside her folds. The brushes became more of a rubbing a moment later, sending a jolt of arousal through her body to settle between her thighs. She nearly whimpered- of course he was going to tease her. He'd done the same thing last night. “Your hand is making it hard to eat, though.”

 

One of Grant's eyebrows rose curiously. “You want me to stop?”

 

“No,” replied Skye, groaning aloud when his fingers shifted to rub between her legs. “But I'm gonna suggest we move to a bedroom because I don't want my dad's girlfriend to walk in on you fingering me under the table.”

 

A deep, low chuckle left his throat, the same chuckle that had gone straight to her clit the previous night. It wasn't doing anything less this morning. Dammit.

 

“We can finish what Jemma interrupted,” offered Grant, his lips brushing her ear as the hand beneath the table shifted to play with the waistband of her borrowed shorts. “Clean up can wait.”

 

“I'm not arguing,” groaned Skye, her own hand sliding blindly beneath the table to drag her nails along his thigh through his sweats. The noise he made in the back of his throat was satisfying in a way she couldn't begin to explain.

 

Before Skye could blink, Grant had scooped her up from the table and was heading back towards his room. “Screw clean up. Jemma can do it later if she doesn't like it.”

 

“And here I was hoping you were going to screw me,” remarked Skye, leaning up to nip at his jaw.

 

Grant shifted her around in his arms just outside his room, pressing his hips against hers as he pinned her to the wall. His lips slammed against hers in a bruising kiss that promised she wasn't forgotten. One of Grant's hands slid beneath her shirt as their lips remained locked, fingers brushing against the underside of her breast before moving up to gently begin playing with her nipple. She was squirming by the time he pulled back, her legs tightening to draw his hips closer against her. “Oh, I'm going to screw you, don't worry. I'm going to make you scream, like you did last night.”  
  


“Good,” murmured Skye, nipping his jaw slightly as she drew her nails down his back. The door beside her was pushed open then seconds before two hands grabbed her rear and lifted her away from the wall. “I'm looking forward to it.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Skye shifted a little uncertainly in her borrowed clothes, the dress from the night before resting in Grant's trash. Apparently, there had been some tearing in their haste. Grant has insisted she borrow his clothes as an apology. He'd also sworn he'd buy her a new dress.

 

“Are you sure you don't need a lift home?” asked Grant uncertainly, shifting a little awkwardly as they walked to his front door. “I really don't mind.”

 

“I'm sure, Grant,” assured Skye. Shaking her head a bit. “After this morning, I'm not sure we'd make it home without things kicking up again and I don't need my dad catching us.”

 

“I just don't like the idea of you in a cab,” admitted Grant with a sigh. “It doesn't sound safe.”

 

“It's how I got to the club,” reminded Skye, shaking her head a bit. It was sweet, really, but she didn't need him to take her home. She appreciated the offer though.

 

“Right,” nodded Grant, awkwardness settling over them. It was weird that the awkwardness only settled in as she was leaving, but she thought maybe it wasn't bad, either.

 

“Heading home?” asked Melinda as she emerged from the hall, jacket in hand.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Skye, trying not to feel too awkward over the fact her father's girlfriend had walked in on their uneasy parting.

 

“I'll drop you off,” stated Melinda as she pushed her arms through her coat sleeves. “I hope you have a jacket. It's cold out.”

 

“Uh,” Skye glanced at her phone, wincing when she spotted the temperature. It hadn't been that cold last night. Nowhere near.

 

A coat settled over her shoulders before she could reply, enveloping her entirely. Skye had to work very hard not to turn her face into the cloth; the leather was soft, heavy, and smelled like Grant. The guy smelled incredible. A glance back at Grant confirmed he'd settled the coat on her shoulders and it was definitely his; the look she'd caught in his eyes earlier as she'd been pulling his clothes on (slightly possessive and more than a little aroused) was back in full force. It was probably good that Melinda was standing right there, otherwise she'd likely be back in his room in minutes. Phil would probably ground her if she didn't get home, too.

 

“Just bring it back when you get a chance,” stated Grant suddenly, drawing her attention away from thoughts of what Grant might do to her if Melinda wasn't there. “Or give it to Mel if you don't want to make the trip back. She knows where I live, too.”

 

Melinda snorted and muttered something about her car before exiting the apartment.

 

“Right,” muttered Skye, blinking back at Grant before pointing at the door. “I should probably follow her.”

 

“Probably,” agreed Grant, shoving one hand into his pocket. His other hand rose to rub at the back of his neck nervously, his eyes darting away momentarily before lowering to meet hers. “Um, do you think you'd want to go out sometime? On a date, I mean.”  
  


“What, last night didn't count?” joked Skye, a grin spreading over her face. God this man was adorable. She hadn't even realized part of the tension she was feeling was anticipation until he asked; the weight lifting proverbially from her shoulders felt amazing.

 

The blush that tinted Grant's cheeks didn't hide his chagrined wince. "As nice as last night was, I promise I can take you out without pinning you to a wall.”

 

“I'm not sure how I feel about that,” admitted Skye with a slightly uneasy shift, “but I wouldn't be opposed to seeing you again, maybe with coffee but minus the rest of your family?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” laughed Grant, his shoulders relaxing noticeably. “Maybe later this week?”

 

“Sounds great,” agreed Skye. As weird as it sounded, she felt lighter with the knowledge she would see Grant again outside the club. Opening her mouth, Skye planned on saying more but found herself cut short by a very angry car horn. They both visibly winced, sharing a chagrined look before Skye adjusted her purse and gave Grant a wide grin. “I'll call you.”

 

“I'll talk to you then,” confirmed Grant, wincing when another honk cut through the building.

 

Skye didn't pause, pressing a quick kiss to Grant's lips (it was very difficult to keep it quick and not get distracted) before she bolted for the stairs down. She took them two at a time, crashing through the door to the lobby with a loud bang and darting onto the street. Melinda was already in her car in front of the building, waiting with that restrained impatience she'd seen come out a few times when the older woman was frustrated. Still, all Melinda did was raise an eyebrow and push open the door for Skye to climb in.

 

Offering no immediate response, Skye threw her bag in the back and flopped into the passenger seat. “Sorry.”

 

“I messaged Phil so he knows we're on our way,” remarked Melinda as she threw the car into drive and accelerated down the street. “You have everything?”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Skye, gripping the hand hold above her head. “Hey, it's not like I can't get anything I did leave back. I know where he lives.”

 

Melinda nodded, not offering any kind of a verbal comment. She just seemed to be focused on driving, which seemed pretty much in line with who she was to begin with. Skye didn't let it bother her- she was used to the quiet older woman.

 

“Are you going to see him again?” asked Melinda suddenly, startling Skye half out of her seat.

 

“Um, yeah,” answered Skye, shifting a little uncomfortably. “That's my- shit!” Skye's brain ground to a halt as a sharp realization hit her. “I forgot to get his phone number!”

 

The chuckling sound that came from the driver's seat startled Skye worse than Melinda asking her question. A cellphone appeared in Skye's lap a second later from seemingly nowhere. “It's under Grant, no last name.”

 

“Thanks?” asked Skye, beyond startled. Melinda was offering her the number of her roommate/boss? Why? Skye was pretty sure the last thing Melinda should want was her boyfriend’s daughter dating her boss.

 

“I haven't seen Grant that happy in a long time,” stated Melinda simply, apparently picking up on Skye's thoughts. “He seems to make you happy, too. Just don't tell Phil that I'm encouraging you.”

 

“Got it,” stated Skye with an internal laugh. Smiling, she dug through the phone's contacts until she found Grant, entering his number into her phone. Who knows, she might even call him that night. After all, if there was one thing Phil had taught her, it was that in situations like this, it was better not to wait. Otherwise, you might miss out on something great.


End file.
